Free Wayfarer by R.J. Anderson Page A

years since Queen Amaryllis turned Jasmine into a human and exiled her from the Oak, so she’s long dead by now. And anyway, she’d never have done it. If she was crazed enough to think it worth using up all our magic justto keep us away from humans, do you really think she’d be likely to change her mind?”
    â€œFair enough,” said Timothy. “So you think the faeries here will help you?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Linden said. “I’d hoped so, but after the way Veronica behaved to you, tricking you into seeing her as someone you trusted, and then trying to take your music…” The memory of the other faery bending over Timothy, that hungry light in her eyes, still made Linden shudder.
    â€œI still don’t get that part.” Timothy swirled his drink around with the straw. “How could she steal music from me? Why would she want to?”
    Linden sighed. “You have to understand. We faeries aren’t creative, like you humans are. On our own, we can’t make art or music, or come up with new ideas—we have to learn all those things from you. But at the same time, having faeries close by makes humans more creative, so it works both ways. Or at least it’s supposed to.”
    â€œBut…?” prompted Timothy.
    â€œWell, it’s also supposed to happen gradually. But last night, when Veronica dragged you off to play for her…it didn’t. Even shut up in that locker, I could hear. I could tell.”
    Timothy looked down at his reddened fingers. “So she did that,” he said. “She made me—”
    â€œShe pushed you,” said Linden. “Forced all your musical ability to the surface, so she could take it for herself. I didn’teven know that was possible.”
    â€œI’ve never played like that in my whole life.”
    She touched his arm, trying to reassure him. “I won’t let her do it again.”
    Timothy did not reply. He sat back against the bench, his eyes unreadable. “So now what?” he said.
    â€œI have to try and find some good faeries,” Linden said. “Ones who will listen to what I have to say, and care enough to want to help—or at least be willing to bargain.”
    Timothy studied her a moment. Then he said, “Well, good luck with that, I guess,” and began to slide out from behind the table.
    â€œWait!” she said. “Where are you going?”
    â€œTo find another hostel. I’m tired.”
    â€œBut what if Veronica finds you again? And I need your help!”
    â€œI don’t know what for,” he said. “I gave you a ride here, and you got me away from Veronica, so it looks like we’re even. If you need to get back to the Oak, just buy a train ticket to Aynsbridge.”
    â€œBut I haven’t any money—”
    â€œWhy would you need it? You’ve got this ‘glamour’ thing: You can probably conjure up a few pounds.”
    â€œI can’t do that,” protested Linden. “It would be stealing.” Use your gifts wisely and in good conscience, Amaryllis had told her, not for selfish gain. “And anyway, I don’t want to go back, not until I’ve found the help I need.” She clutched atTimothy’s sleeve. “Please don’t go. There’s so much I still don’t know about your world. And I can help you, too, if you give me the chance.”
    For a moment Timothy still hesitated. Then he heaved a sigh and slumped back down onto the bench. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Sure you don’t want some chips?”
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    â€œClosing up,” announced the boy with the mop, and quickly Timothy drained the rest of his Coke, willing the sugar and caffeine to spark through his exhaustion, keep him going just a little while longer.
    â€œCome on,” he said to Linden. “We’d better find somewhere to sleep.”
    â€œLet me go first,” she